


Cold

by syvamiete



Series: Midam Christmas Calendar [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syvamiete/pseuds/syvamiete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm cold."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by theangelandhisboyking's prompt in Tumblr: cold+warm

Something shakes Adam awake. He blinks into the darkness trying to collect his thoughts. Slowly, his eyes start to adjust to the gloom of the empty room.

He pulls the blanket tighter around himself as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. The heat isn’t still working properly. The bare floor is chilly under his feet as he walks through the dark house, blanket rustling behind him.

Finally, he finds him from the scarcely furnished living room. The big glass windows give enough light that he can easily see Michael leaning to the wall next to them, staring outside.

He’s a stubborn ass. Adam knows wholly well how he pretends to be stronger than he actually is and that his wings hurt constantly. He has never bought his act that it doesn’t really mattered that he’s trapped down here, unable to return home, pretending that the scars in his Grace don’t exist.

Adam walks next to him to see what he’s looking at. Big snowflakes drift slowly to the ground forming a white sheet, which amplifies the scant light. Michael doesn’t react when Adam wraps his arms around him.

They stand there in silence for a while, looking at the fall of the fresh snow, until Michael finally speaks with a soft voice: “I’m cold.”

He doesn’t need to say more for Adam to know where his mind is, to know what memories he’s thinking.

“We got out,” Adam says tightened his hold and resting his head on his shoulder while twining his warmer fingers with Michael’s cooler ones.


End file.
